“Wow, Staci’s tits really look good from this side,” said John the apartment super. John had found the Costume Gun when he’d found the previous owner dead in mid-costuming in one of his apartments. Now, he considered the complex his own personal hunting ground for hot young coeds.
Staci had been so easy to zap when she called for help with her air conditioning. She had deflated into a girl sized pile of flesh and John had lost no time slipping into her skin. Then the familiar pain of his body morphing and shifting, sprouting those pert young breast; watching his legs grow long and thin. When he finished, he slipped on her jewelry, and that hot purple dress.
“Staci and her friends have a hot night of clubbing planned,” he said pulling down her collar. “I don’t want to keep anyone waiting.” John really loves date night with the Costume Gun.